What is and what should never be
by mida malek
Summary: So... you know I personally love John Winchester and I think he did the best he could with his short and sad and just full of hurt life. So, I decided to write this one shut, to see how things would have worked out if John didn't get into hunting. it's sad, i'm warning you.. Leave me reviews? :)


"Mom... Mommy...please... No... Mommy please..."

John Winchester closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands on his ears, praying to anything out there to make this stop. To make his son stop whimpering those words in his sleep.

He prayed that something stopped the nightmares.

Dean was trying so hard, putting on a brave front when he was awake, holding Sammy to himself, taking him everywhere he went, whispering to the little baby how he would take care of him. But John was awake for the nightmares that haunted his kid. He knew damn well how Dean was fading away piece by piece... No one had been around Mary as much as Dean had. The two had been inseparable. Even when Mary had to be with Sam, she'd always made sure to have Dean by her side.

Dean understood everything, much better than any kid his age did, but John knew how that would be exactly what will destroy his son. He dragged his already wet hand through his even wetter face, a failed attempt to clear the tears.

Their house would be OK, he had learned today. It had took him 6 months to rebuild it, different than what it had been, but still the same house, and they had finished it on Sam's birthday. Today was Sam's first birthday and Dean had made sure to get him a cake and a candle and he had made John take pictures and he had told Sam how next year it would be better. John had felt a blade turn in his heart.

He just wanted to help his son. But he had no idea where to begin.

He should just give the kid some time.

"He would be fine..." He told himself. "We all will..."

John stared as the door was slammed to his face, feeling more hopeless than anything else. He wasn't mad, he wasn't angry or disappointed. He was just deeply, heartbreakingly sad. What was he supposed to do with this kid? He was 15 for heavens sake and yet, John would still find himself, waiting for Dean to get over his mother, every other day. 10 years had past, and nothing had changed for his older son.

He still didn't talk to most people, he kept to himself, he didn't eat when people were watching, he didn't have friends, he spent most his time training and learning new marshal arts. John had stopped counting which ones the kid was a pro at already 2 years ago. And still, the only one who could get a smile out of Dean was Sammy. The only thing that gave John hope that maybe Dean would be alright. If anything got even close to the kid, Dean would go nuclear, throwing fits that no one but Sam could handle.

Today, it was Sam's 11th birthday and John had watched Dean laugh and joke all day, eating so much pie John had been worried. But after Sammy slept, he had followed Dean to the bathroom and he had heard the sounds, the heaving. he had heard Dean throw up everything and he had heard Dean's sobs. Dean had yelled at him to get out, and shut him out for what must be the thousandth time and shut the door in his face. John swallowed the lump in his throat, going to check on Sammy, making sure he was still asleep.

He just had to give Dean more time. He'd come around.

Dean dropped out of school when he was 17. John was shocked it took him so long.

Sam didn't like the idea and tried to change Dean's mind.

That was the first time Dean ever told Sam to shut up.

And Sam had.

Dean wasn't around much anymore. He had friends now, people he hung out with, people he would disappear with for days. He always came back hurt, a new cut, a new bruise, twice a broken finger.

He never talked about what happened to him and he didn't talk to John more than hi and bye.

He still made sure to be around when Sam needed help.

Some things never changed John guessed.

And no matter how much time he gave Dean, he knew for sure now, his son would never heal.

And it hurt.

Dean left them for good a week after Sam's graduation.

He said Sam was going to Stanford and didn't need Dean anymore, and he didn't even mention John.

Sam had cried.

John knew Sam had realized at that moment just how far gone Dean was.

They didn't know what Dean was doing but it had been months since they last saw Dean injured in any ways.

John wanted to scream, ask the gods where he went wrong, ask them what was he supposed to do?

He knew by experience that there was never an answer.

So he saved his breath.

Dean missed Sam's graduation from college. Two years since they had last heard of him.

Sam told John he was done crying over Dean and John felt a ping of jealousy in his heart.

He still heard Dean's whimpers in his sleep every night.

His son's nightmares were still haunting him even after all these years.

"At least Sammy is fine.." He told himself.

"He won't agree to having a lawyer. His last name matched yours and I had to check, see if you know him, if you can knock some sense into his head. He's a tough kid but it was obvious he was defending himself. The dead guy had broken his hand and head pretty bad before he got to pull the trigger. Bit we can't do anything if he doesn't talk Sam!"

Sam had gotten a phone call at ten p.m, telling him this guy, sharing his last name, was brought in for a murder case. Everyone knew Sam Winchester was the best lawyer in the state, and they had thought to let him know about the situation.

"What's...what's his name?" Sam forced the words out of his mouth, already sure he knew the answer.

"Dean. His name is Dean Winchester."

Sam felt the weigh of the world leaving his chest.

Dean was alive.

"Sammy! Looking good kiddo! Heard you're a big ass lawyer now, huh?" Dean had used his usual big brother tone, as soon as Sam had stepped inside the room. Just like they were kids, Dean only talked to Sam. And Sam felt his already raw throat close at that thought.

"Dean..." His voice broke and he would give anything in the world to hold his big brother just one more time. Smell the leather jacket, feel his warmth envelope him and make him feel safe... At home.

But he knew better than anyone else that he couldn't.

"What happened to your... To you?" He asked, trying to catch his footing.

"are you asking that as a lawyer or my brother?" Dean asked, sitting a little straighter.

"I... I don't know..." Sam answered, looking down at his hands. He was taller than Dean now, and wasn't cuffed to the table but somehow he still felt intimidated by his big brother.

"'S nothing! I'll be fine!" Dean winked, reassuring Sam like he had all those Sam wasn't a kid anymore, and he didn't need Dean to comfort him anymore.

"Dean... You gotta tell me what happened so I can help you..." "Does dad know?" Dean asked instead, causing Sam to freeze, dead still in his chair. "Dean... Dad is... He passed away last year..." Sam choked out the words and he could visibly see Dean shatter at the words. Something in his brother's eyes shifted, like a shade of the green turned to black.

But he just nodded once, looking away from Sam.

"Sorry I wasn't there for you when it happened!" He threw at Sam, like John's death didn't really matter on itself. Like Sam's need for comfort was the only thing Dean was concerned about.

"DEAN! I just told you our father was dead and you... What the fuck happened to you? Do you even fucking give a damn about the man? He RAISED you for god's sake. Pay him a little bit of respect. At least now that he's dead!"

Sam had lost it finally. He wanted to punch this fake calm out of his brother. He wanted to scream at Dean for years, he wanted to punch him for not being there when John had called for him, more than a thousand times.

"I'm sorry Sam, but I can't respect a man who let his family tear apart! Who couldn't protect his damn wife and kids! I can't respect a man who didn't have fucking enough guts to track down his wife's killer!" Dean shot back, his eyes dead cold.

And for the first time in his life, Sam was scared. Scared of his brother.. Scared FOR his brother.

"Is that...is that what you'd been doing all this time? Tracking down the guy who killed.. Mom?"

"Wasn't a guy..." Dean mumbled under his breath and Sam would have missed it if he hadn't been listening so closely.

"What? It was a woman?" He asked, a little taken aback. "No Sam...it wasn't human..." Dean said, looking up now to see Sam's reaction to the words. He wasn't surprised at the look he got.

"What do you mean? Like an animal could set the house on fire?"

"Not an animal either Sam... It was a demon. And I killed him I finally killed the son of a bitch two nights ago and now they have stopped. The nightmares have stopped Sammy. Now mom is at peace and you're finally safe because he can't get you anymore and now I can finally sleep... God Sammy, I want to sleep forever... It feels so good, the silence... I miss her, I really do, but the voice was driving me crazy... She kept telling me you were in danger and I needed to save you and I finally did... I finally did it. I killed that son of a bitch Sammy." Sam just stared at his brother, dread spreading in his guts. Dean had lost it for good... His brother was crazy. What was he even talking about? Demon?

"Dean...what are you talking about?"

Dean smiled with a sad expression on his face, like he knew Sam wouldn't believe him.

"Doesn't matter kiddo... What matters is that I killed him and now I can rest forever..."

Sam wanted to scream at Dean to take that back, to stop saying those words. His brother wasn't a killer.

"Dean! You can't just keep saying that. They will put u in jail until your hair is grey. They will...Dean, tell me you HAD to kill the man. Tell me it was either him or you... That you had no other choice because he was killing you. Tell me it was self defense... Please.."

Dean just kept smiling at him.

"No... I killed it because I wanted revenge! Because it had killed our mom! I killed it because it deserved to die! And I killed the man he was possessing too and.. I had no choice but that doesn't make it right... I need to be punished for that. The man didn't do anything...poor bastard couldn't even control his own body..."

Sam had a feeling Dean was half talking to himself now.

And he was sure with everything Dean had just said, the penalty was clear.

Dean was guilty of murder and there was NO way for him to get out of it.

Sam just sat there, looking at his brother's face, carving every perfect detail in his brain, saving his brother to his memory. He only realized then, how young, how broken and shattered his brother was. He only realized then, how painfully beautiful his brother was.

And he realized then, that Dean was never going to be OK...

~Fin~


End file.
